Cupcake
by TStabler
Summary: A one-word one-shot. It's someone's birthday, and they're spending it at work, busy and frustrated, and alone. Someone ELSE makes sure that doesn't happen, rushing to them, bringing a sweet cupcake and a few other surprises. M for MATURE


**A/N: Tomorrow is my birthday, and as a woman who lives vicariously through her fics, this is what I want :) And also reviews. They're good. ;)**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters? Dick Wolf. This story? TStabler**

Elliot knows the man who runs the street stand is watching him, confused, as he runs his hands over the petals of every single yellow rose he sees. He doesn't care. Let him watch, let him wait, he thinks. He's taking his time, choosing the one with the least imperfections, the fullest blossom, the dullest thorns. He's looking for something special.

He smiles as he lifts one, single flower into his cold hand, and he nods at the clerk. He pays for the bloom, and he sighs. It isn't supposed to be like this, he thinks. He's supposed to be with her in a fancy restaurant, he's supposed to seduce her with decadent chocolate desserts and expensive champagne before taking her home to ravage her well into the night.

A phone call changed it all. She's stuck at work, one of the cases that used to take him away from his family for days was now taking her away from him. He nods again at the flower man, then takes his single, yellow rose and walks down the crowded street.

He doesn't remember ever noticing the amount of people that litter the sidewalks, not before he was so aware of everything surrounding him. He closes his eyes, instinctively weaving around the people he's walking with, and he tries to recall what it felt like to be oblivious, but he can't.

She has opened his eyes to a world he'd never known, she allows him to be who he is without apology or guilt, and she does not make him feel responsible or sorry for the mistakes he's made. She takes him as he is, as he was and will be, and she loves all of him so completely, like no one ever has.

That's why he cannot let this night pass without recognition, why he's out in the blistering cold, walking the many miles through midtown to get to her. He looks to his left, and his eyes widen when he sees her favorite street-cart, parked across the avenue. He runs, hoping the truck's window is still up, and when he gets there, panting, he laughs.

"Can I help ya?" the man in the truck asks, his arms folded.

Taking a hard breath, Elliot nods. He taps the picture of what he wants on the counter, then holds up one finger.

"Just one?" the man asks, raising an eyebrow.

Coughing now, he narrows his eyes and nods. "Yeah," he breathes. "Just one. It's for my girlfriend."

"Sure it is, pal," the foodie laughs, and he wraps his gloved hand around a red velvet cupcake and puts it in a clamshell box. He snaps it shut, hands it to Elliot and says, "Three fifty. Enjoy the cupcake, cupcake."

Elliot hands him a five dollar bill with a grunt and walks away, his cupcake and rose clenched tightly in his gloveless hand. He spits out a breath, seeing the white burst of fog before him, and he laughs. She told him it was too cold, and she told him not to come see her, but tonight, he refused to listen.

He picks up some speed, bounding into a jog, her face in his mind making him eager to get to her faster. He turns the corner quickly, narrowly missing someone he used to know, and he ignores their yelling as he sprints up the steps of a building he used to call home.

The heat hits him hard, knocking the breath out of him, and he sidesteps the metal detectors and holds up his badge.

"Evening, Detective," the guard says with a nod.

Elliot barely hears him as he barrels toward the stairs, the elevator would take too long tonight. He makes it to the landing, then takes a breath, calming himself. He double-checks his pocket, making sure the box is still there, that he hasn't dropped it.

He looks down and mentally notes the flower and the cupcake, and with another deep breath, he opens the stairwell door and moves into the hallway. he looks around for a moment, taking in all that has changed since he's last been here. He smiles and walks, no, struts down the hall, then slinks up against the door to his old squad room. He peeks around, seeing her with a phone in one hand, a marker in the other, the cap in her mouth, and a cup of coffee balanced on one finger.

He laughs, then stares in amazement. She amazes him, and he finds the more he looks at her the more in love he falls. He takes a step into the room, unnoticed in the hustle and bustle, and he strides over to her. He takes the coffee before it spills, then takes the marker cap out of her mouth, and he sees her absently nod her thanks as she scribbles something on the board in front of her.

She slams the phone down, mutters a few choice curse words, then turns. "We have to get down to Mercy, there's another..." she pauses and tilts her head. "You're not Nick."

"I'm not, no," he tells her with a chuckle. "Who the hell is Nick?"

"My partner...for the next three hours, anyway," She blinks, she smiles. "What are you doing here?"

He lifts the flower, tapping her nose lightly with it. He watches her take it, then holds up the box containing her cupcake. "I looked adorable running through the streets of Manhattan carrying this, ya know."

She laughs. "I'm sure you did," she says, shaking her head. She puts the cupcake on her desk and looks back up at him. "You came all the way out here...you walked?"

"I did," he said. "From your place, not mine." He clarifies, he doesn't want her to think he walked all the way from Queens, though for her, he would. "Can you take a break?" he asks, his eyes pleading with her.

"Not really," she says, sadly, her grip on the flower tightening for a moment before she puts it down next to the cupcake. "We just got a..."

"Go, Olivia," Cragen interrupts, standing behind her. "Fin can go with Nick. Take a break." He looks up at Elliot. "Nice to see you, son," he says with a small, yet somehow bitter smile.

"You, too. Thanks," Elliot says, meaning more than that, and he pulls her by the hand, leading her toward the steps. He pulls a bit harder, sensing her hesitation, and he laughs. "I haven't been up here in almost a year, humor me."

She rolls her eyes and walks, following him into the cribs, and she laughs when he stops in his tracks. "That's why I was pulling back. Not exactly how you left it."

"Where are...what the..." he babbles.

"Keep walking, hot shot," she teases, pushing him. "There's another door."

He blinks and he turns the knob, pushing through. "Oh, now this looks like...what's that smell?"

"Clean," she chuckles, sitting on the closest bed. "I told you not to..."

He kisses her as he sits beside her. He cups her face and he whispers, "Happy birthday, baby."

Her eyes open slowly, and she smiles. "Thank you," she whispers back. "You have no idea...how badly I wanted to see you tonight."

"Yeah, I do," he says, his fingers brushing her cheeks. "Just as badly as I needed to see you." He kisses her again. "You wanna tell me about the..."

"No," she says firmly. "Not now. You're here to give me a break from it, I don't wanna waste it by talking about it."

He laughs, his nose brushes hers, and then he remembers. "Oh!" he snaps. "Close your eyes."

She makes a face and her lids drop. "If I open my eyes and you're naked with a bow around your..."

"Ha," he snorts, interrupting her. "That's later," he jokes. "Open them."

She opens her eyes, and the gasp is softer than she thought it would be. "Wow," she says, reaching out a hand to grab the pendant. "El...that's...that's..."

"I had it made," he says, unhooking the clasp. He waits as she moves her hair, and he latches it around her neck. "It's you and me, it's us."

She looks down at the tiny gold badge on the chain around her neck. On one side, her badge number, and on the other, his. "El, I..."

His lips are on hers again. "I know," he says, and he pushes her backward. "So why the new digs?"

She raises an eyebrow as she watches him slip her black pants around her hips. "Things change," she says. "There are more of us, we needed more beds...what are you doing? Anyone could..."

"Everyone's busy," he interrupts. He smirks at her as he settles himself at the foot of the bed. He eyes her, he licks his lips, and he runs a finger up her folds. "Wet," he whispers, "Why?"

She grins. "Because you're here."

"Good answer," he says, bending his head. He nips at her inner thighs, he licks the thin skin in the crease of her hip. He chuckles then, and he runs his tongue from the very bottom of her slit all the way up, stopping just short of her clit.

Her back arches and she moans softly, her hands clutch his head, then she yelps a bit. "What the hell was that for?"

He bites her again, hard, a goof bit of her inner thigh in his mouth. "Don't touch me," he grits out, his dark, narrow eyes boring into hers. "Just stay still, relax," he demands softly.

She drops her head again, feeling him lick at her, his tongue slipping in and up, out and down, and her teeth press into her bottom lip hard. "Fuck," she seethes through her bitten mouth.

He laughs to himself, proud, and he wraps his lips around her clit and sucks for a moment. "Tell me how much you love it," he demands, his lips and tongue getting back to work. He splays his hand in front of his face, holding her open, and flicks his tongue over her clit. "Tell me how much you want it," he mumbles.

"Oh, God," she moans, her legs starting to tremble from the tension of trying not to clamp around his head. "Right there, baby."

He feels her hands move through his hair again and he nips at her bit, making her whimper. "I told you...don't touch me. This isn't about me," he says, resuming his licking. He sucks on her wet flesh, pulling and letting it go with a pop. "All about you," he says with a smirk. "You taste so fucking amazing," he says, breathing fast.

She moans at his words and she watches him crawl up her body. His face, only an inch from hers, seems dark and menacing. She looks into his eyes for a moment, then tilts her head when he covers her mouth with his hand.

"Shh," he hushes, then thrusts two fingers into her. He catches her deep, low, cry in his palm and he bends his head to whisper in her ear. "Quiet," he says, twisting his fingers. "Look at me."

After rolling her eyes and lowering herself back onto the bed, she looks at him again, and she sees his bright eyes, his tense smirk. She knows what he's doing and why, and she loves him all the more for it. She nods quickly and takes a harsh breath when he moves his hand.

"I love doing this to you," he whispers, kissing her. "Making you shiver, making you cum," he kisses her again. "Making you mine."

The sheets beneath her twist in her hands as her body starts to tense and break, and she feels his fingers slip out of her, slam back into her, over and over again, faster and faster. She knows he's shaking the bottle and waiting for the right moment to pop the cork, and it's killing her not to grab him and scratch him and kiss him.

He sees the need in her eyes, and he smiles. "Okay," he says softly. "Because it's your birthday..." he leans closer to her. He stares into her panic-stricken eyes, he brushes her lips with his, and he whispers, "Cum."

As soon as his lips crash into hers, he swipes his thumb across her clit and she feels as though she's being ripped apart at the seams. She screams his name into his mouth, her body convulses as she whimpers and moans against his lips, and she feels his fingers, still moving, bringing a second orgasm on the heels of her first.

"One more," he moans, kissing her. "For me, baby. Come on." His thumb shifts and jostles over her clit faster and the frustrated growl from her that he swallows gives him chills. He slows his fingers. He slows his kisses. He wraps his arms around her and he whispers, "Happy Birthday."

She lets out an exhausted laugh, kisses him again, and pulls away to look at him. She blinks and she asks, "What time do you have to go in tomorrow?"

"Six," he sighs, moving down the mattress to pull up her panties and slacks. "I assume you'll still be here?"

She flops down on the bed and nods. "I hate this," she complains. "But...that's why you came down here?"

He bites his lip. "My last relationship failed because I fell in love with someone at work, someone I spent days on end with, without going home." He brushes her hair back. "I'm not doing it again. Not this time. I had to see you. Touch you," he leans down and kisses her. "Taste you."

She squints. "We've been apart for a lot longer than..."

"Yeah, I don't wanna take any chances now," he interrupts. "This is gonna work, Liv. I swear. Never more than a day apart, ever. Promise me," he pleads.

"I promise," she whispers.

He winks at her and flicks at her chain. "I'm always with you, you know that. Always."

She blinks, then she smiles. "Best birthday present ever," she mumbles with a smirk. She sits up and then stands, then takes his hand. She leads him downstairs, gives him a lingering kiss, and watches him leave the squad room. With a deep breath, she turns, and she moves toward her desk. Her face falls, she crosses her arms, and she looks up. "Hey!" she yells, causing the room to fall silent. "Who ate my cupcake?"


End file.
